


More? You Animal!

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Biting, Bondage, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face Biting, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Pussy Biting, Semi-Public Sex, Telepathy, Thigh Slapping, Vaginal Fingering, breast slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: The Doctor and Missy run into each other in an alleyway in the middle of a city.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Missy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	More? You Animal!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts).



> First time writing Missy, hope you enjoy! I had so much fun writing this thing, holy fuck.

“You’ve been spending rather too much time around those humans,” Missy said, and she was smirking as she twisted her fingers through the Doctor's blond hair. 

The Doctor groaned, and she shoved Missy into the side of the TARDIS a little harder than necessary “Do you ever shut up?” She leaned down to kiss Missy, and she took some perversity in smudging Missy’s lipstick, even if Missy was barely kissing her back. 

“That’s especially rich, coming from you. I think this is the quietest you've been since you first dropped down onto this mud ball of a planet,” said Missy when they’d pulled apart. She gave the Doctor’s hair another yank, forcing the Doctor’s head back. “At least this face is nicer to look at than the old one.” She cupped the Doctor’s cheek in one hand, her thumb pressing down on the Doctor’s cheekbone. “I just want to sink my teeth into those rosy little cheeks.” She pinched the Doctor’s cheek, and the Doctor hissed. 

“Do you ever get tired of playing at being the crazy?” The Doctor was proud of herself for how coherent she sounded, as Missy’s hand twisted in her hair, forcing her head to the side and baring her neck. “It’s getting quite tedious.” She was maintaining the _illusion_ of being in control, right? Even if she was getting weak in the knees. She had been trying to maintain the illusion of control, when she had shoved Missy into the side of the TARDIS. 

Being in control while arguing with Missy in an alleyway in the middle of some random city on Earth. The Doctor didn't even know when it was, just that she had stopped here on a whim.

Stopped, gotten out, and there was Missy. 

“You're one to talk about tedious," groused the Time Lady, and she was scowling. “You’re so damn _repetitive_ , always going on about not killing people, about helping people.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a _bore_ , Doctor.”

"Then leave me _alone_ ," the Doctor said. "I'm just here to enjoy myself. How are you out and about here, anyway? How do you know anything about my fam?" 

"Oh, I have my ways," Missy said, and she smiled at the Doctor in that way that always made the Doctor's hearts sink. There was a screaming, terrifying madness in the backs of Missy's eyes, and sometimes the Doctor thought she might drown in it. In her darker moments, she hoped she would.

"Can we not do this?" The Doctor grasped Missy's wrist, and tried to untangle Missy's fingers from her hair. "It’s the same song and dance every time we see each other, and then we go our separate ways. You're going to try some kind of world ending calamity, I'm going to stop you, we're going to continue on our ways..." 

Missy leaned forward, and she sank her teeth into the meat of the Doctor's cheek. They were blunt, but Missy's jaws were strong, and then she was _sucking_ , hard enough to leave a hickey.

The Doctor jerked back, nearly unbalanced, and then Missy was grabbing at one of the Doctor's braces and shoving her forward, belly first into the TARDIS. The wood (which wasn't actually wood, if she wanted to get pedantic about it, and this was the _perfect_ time to get pedantic) was painful against her bitten cheek, and her head "thunked" against the wood unpleasantly. 

"You bit my _face_ ," the Doctor said, outraged. The bite was throbbing; she was going to have one hell of a bruise. More like a hickey ringed with teeth marks than a bruise.

"Just a little reminder," Missy said, and her tone was breezy. "You can look at it in the mirror while you brush your teeth in the morning and think of me!"

"Everyone else can see it," the Doctor hissed, and she flushed; she didn't want to think of the excuse she'd have to formulate to Yaz and Graham and Ryan. Especially Yaz. Nobody could dig and dig like Yaz could. It made her an excellent police officer, and an equally excellent pain in the neck.

Nothing like the pain of Missy's nails digging into the Doctor's scalp, as the Doctor's head was forced back, and Missy's front was pressed into her back. "Are you afraid of people know that we're together, Doctor?" Missy's voice was downright _simpering_ now, and it made the Doctor wince. "Do you know how many things I've done for you, and this is the thanks I get?"

"I didn't ask for it," the Doctor said. She was pinned to the TARDIS, in theory. She could, in practice, shove Missy away. She was bigger than Missy now. In theory, she was stronger. "I haven't asked you for anything."

"It's what makes you so _needy_ ," said Missy, and then she was grabbing at the Doctor's braces once again, fiddling with the spot where they were attached to the Doctor's pants. "You don't ever ask for what you want, you just expect the universe to... offer it." She was pressing closer to the Doctor now and unclipped the Doctor's braces. "Don't you know anything about properly negotiating?" 

"Missy," the Doctor said, and she tried to put some warning in her voice.

"Doctor," Missy echoed back, and the hand had left the Doctor's hair. Missy even stepped back, left the Doctor leaning into the TARDIS of her own power. Such as it was.

"What kind of game are you playing?" The Doctor tried not to fidget. Her bitten cheek was pressed into the TARDIS, and her eyes were half shut, staring at the brick wall of the alley. She wasn’t moving from where Missy had shoved her, wasn’t doing anything but leaning against the TARDIS. 

She should have turned around, should have walked away, should have…

Should have done a lot of things. 

"The fun kind," Missy said, and then she was grabbing the Doctor's coat and yanking it off of her arms. "My god, but you still dress like an idiot, don't you?" She dropped the coat into a pile on the ground, and the Doctor's stomach did an uncomfortable twist. She didn't know why she felt so _naked_ without her coat. Without the braces, her trousers were beginning to slip down. 

The Doctor rolled her eyes. She didn't even have a good rebuttal. What would have _been_ a good rebuttal?

Missy pressed close to the Doctor, and her breasts were very soft against the Doctor’s shoulder blades. The Doctor shouldn't have been noticing that, shouldn't have been noticing all of the goosebumps coming up from Missy's hot breath on the back of her neck, or the way all of her nerves were on fire from Missy's fingers running up and down her arms, even through her shirt. 

“What are you planning, exactly?” The Doctor made to turn around, and Missy’s bony shoulder pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her. 

“What makes you think I’m planning anything?” Missy practically sounded _bored_ as she did… something, and there were the sounds of rustling fabric. 

“You’re you,” the Doctor said, electing to sound bored herself. She wasn’t very good at it, not with the throbbing in her cheek and the beginning of the throbbing between her legs. “You couldn’t pop out to the shops without there being some elaborate scheme involved, probably beginning and ending with the deaths of a few thousand..” She shifted her weight to get more comfortable, and it rubbed the seam of her boxers against her clit. Yet another thing this new body seemed to like. Sometimes it felt like she was insatiable this go ‘round, with a never ending urge to eat more, sleep more, feel more. It seemed like sex was another appetite that wanted her attention. 

Of _course_ she’d find that out now, pressed into her own TARDIS by her oldest, dearest enemy. 

“You wound me, Doctor,” said Missy, and her hands were on the Doctor’s shoulders. Her teeth sank into the Doctor’s neck, and she was sucking like she was pulling out poison. The pain of it was enough to make the Doctor cry out, and it was sending pulses of… something down between the Doctor’s legs, low in her belly. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and she shuddered like ice had just been dropped down her back. 

The Doctor thrashed against Missy, and she hated the thrill that went down her spine as Missy held on, her lips leaving the side of the Doctor’s neck to move up a little farther and bite that spot too, sucking hard enough that it was leaving another mark. She detached, then traced along the shell of the Doctor’s ear with the tip of her tongue, catching on the chain of the Doctor’s ear cuff, then sucking the Doctor’s earlobe into her mouth. 

“Still as predictable as ever,” Missy said, and her voice was loud, this close. and then she was moving back, just enough that there was a cold spot where her fever-hot body had been pressed into the Doctor’s. 

The Doctor was trying to sort her head out, as it spun and her chest heaved. She was shaking now, so wet between the legs that her knickers were sticking to her skin unpleasantly. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said thickly.

“You’ve got all the same hotspots as you always did,” Missy said. “I bet you’ll get just as worked up if I do… this.” Missy yanked on the Doctor’s hair, hard and sudden, and that startled a yelp out of the Doctor. “Sh, careful,” Missy whispered, and her breath was hot and desperate in the Doctor’s ear. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking in on us, would you? I’d have to kill them, obviously.” 

“Don’t kill anyone,” the Doctor said, as Missy’s hands went to her wrists, shoving them together. 

“You’ll just have to be quiet,” Missy said cheerfully. She was… tying the Doctor’s wrists together with what felt like a scarf, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. “I think that’s just about impossible, personally, but I’m sure you’ll work your hardest to prove me wrong.”

The Doctor bit her lip, and tugged on her wrists. She could get out. Her wrists were going to be rubbed raw if she tried, but she’d be able to get out. Eventually. 

“Have I finally found a way to shut you up?” Missy pressed herself against the Doctor’s back again, and she was untucking the Doctor’s shirts, her hands sneaking up under the fabric like a thief in the night. Her hands were cold against the Doctor’s warm skin, and the Doctor’s stomach trembled under it. “I should’ve done this ages ago!” 

The Doctor rolled her eyes, and maybe Missy could tell, because she dug her nails into the Doctor’s stomach, and the Doctor gasped. 

“There we go,” said Missy, and she was pressed a kiss that was almost _delicate_ to the Doctor’s exposed neck, right over the bites and bruises she’d already inflicted. “I knew you had it in you.”

_Why are you like this?_ the Doctor wanted to ask, or maybe _what are you hoping to gain from any of this? What are you hoping to get out of this endless, pointless sadism?_ She’d asked those questions before, with different faces, and she’d gotten a different answer each time. She rested her forehead against the TARDIS, and she sighed. 

“You sound awfully dejected there, Doctor,” Missy said, and then her hands were cradling the Doctor’s breasts, squeezing them hard enough to make the Doctor hiss through her teeth. “Am I not entertaining you?” 

"Missy," the Doctor said, and she sighed, sagging back as Missy's sharp fingers pinched her nipples, "what are you hoping to get out of this?"

"A good shag, to start with," Missy said, and she twisted the Doctor's nipples like radio dials. "I haven't given this body of yours a test drive yet."

"Maybe get the... the... thing," the Doctor panted. She almost _howled_ , as Missy's teeth sank into her neck again, over the other bites, and there was more sucking. The Doctor's whole throat was damp and sticky with spit, and it throbbed like her clit was throbbing, like her nipples, like her cheek. 

"Which thing?" Missy said, her voice sweet and singsong. One of her hands left the Doctor's breast, to drag her nails down across the Doctor's stomach. " _Do_ be more articulate, sweetheart."

The Doctor groaned, and then she sighed, as Missy shoved her trousers down. The cold air on her bare legs was a shock, especially when her skin seemed to be so _hot_. "Why are you doing this?" That made sense as a sentence, right? 

She could pretend that she hadn't been the one to kiss Missy, could pretend that she didn't want this so much that her blood was _singing_ with it. 

"Because you want me to," said Missy, in a sing-song voice. "We both know you want it, Doctor." Her fingers danced over the waistband of the Doctor's boxers, drumming on the elastic. "Question marks, though? Really? Didn't you outgrow that?" Quick as a flash, she grabbed the Doctor's cunt, right through the sticky fabric of the boxers. She squeezed, the heel of her hand digging into the clit, and the Doctor hissed again, her head lolling back.

"Gotta... remember the classics," the Doctor said, and she wasn't even sure what it was that she was saying, except for the fact that Missy was grinding down roughly on her clit, and it was making her weak in the knees. The pleasure was like a parasite, burrowing through her, stealing all of her vital functions.

"Have you given your new body a test drive?" Missy asked, and she let go of the Doctor's breast, grabbing a hold of the Doctor's boxers. She yanked, and the fabric split down the middle. The air was equally cold on the Doctor's wet, sticky cunt, and she shuddered. 

"Did you really need to rip my clothes?" The Doctor was _not_ going to whimper when Missy's fingers traced down the length of her slit, when the pad of Missy's index finger pressed down her clit and began to circle slowly, teasingly. She couldn't seem to stop the way her hips were rocking forward, chasing the sweet, aching pleasure that was building up deep inside of her. 

"Might inspire you to get some new ones," said Missy. "Although you didn't answer my question, Doctor." Her hand went to the Doctor's hips, pulling them back, and now the Doctor was bent over the TARDIS, her sore face mashed into it, her ass sticking out. Missy's feet went between her legs, forcing her stance wider, and her shoulders were already beginning to ache from having her tied behind her back. There were just so many different little pinpricks of pain on her, little bright spots on the map of her body, and she didn't know where to concentrate.

"I like my clothes," the Doctor said, not sure how else to defend herself. It was hard to think, when Missy's cold hands were sliding into the ripped fabric, the very tips of her fingers teasing along the Doctor's entrance. The rough fabric of her suit jacket dragged across the Doctor’s hands. 

"Yes, well, you could never be fettered by such limiting factors as 'taste,'" Missy said. "I can feel you trying to pull me in," she added, and there was a dangerous lilt to her voice now, a note that was giving the Doctor goosebumps all up and down her back. "You can't deny how badly you want it, can you?"

"The body and the brain aren't always in sync," the Doctor said, and her voice was as stiff as dried bones.

And then Missy took a step back. 

The Doctor groaned, wriggled. Her hands, still bound behind her, grasped at nothing. 

“Far be it from me to force you into something you don’t want, Doctor,” Missy said, and her tone was like poisoned honey. The Doctor couldn’t stand up straight without overbalancing, couldn’t turn around to look Missy in the face. 

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was better to have a confrontation where she couldn’t drown in the madness lurking in the Time Lady’s eyes. 

“Missy,” the Doctor said, and her voice was rougher than she’d like. There was a gust of cool air, and it pushed up her legs, tickled along the slit ripped into her boxers. 

“Doctor,” Missy said back, in a bland, reasonable tone.

“I… want this,” the Doctor said, and she hated how desperate she sounded.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that,” Missy said, and now she sounded even more smug than usual. The Doctor hadn’t even been aware that Missy could sound so smug. She was finding new veins of smug to mine, hitherto unknown to science. 

“I want you to keep going,” the Doctor said a little louder this time.

“Be more _specific_ , Doctor,” Missy said sharply. “You don’t want to know what I’d get up to, if you keep it vague like that.”

The Doctor huffed out of her nose, annoyed. “You know what I’m talking about, Missy,” she ground out. She shifted, trying to roll her shoulders to assuage the ache from having them tied behind her. 

“No,” Missy said, “I really don’t.” She came around to lean on the TARDIS, just out of reach for the Doctor to touch, and she stared into the Doctor’s eyes. 

“I want you to fuck me,” the Doctor said, and she tried to keep her voice level. 

‘What’s the magic word,” Missy sing-songed, her hand hovering over the Doctor’s cheek.

“Please,” the Doctor said, then; “Please fuck me, Missy.”

“Much better,” said Missy, and then she was leaning forward, pressing her mouth against the Doctor’s. Her teeth were blunt against the Doctor’s lower lip, and her tongue pushed its way into the Doctor’s mouth the same way she’d always pushed herself into the Doctor’s life. Missy held the Doctor’s face in her hands, and her thumb dug into the bite mark on the Doctor’s face. She was snickering into their kiss, as the Doctor hissed. 

The Doctor’s eyes squeezed shut as Missy’s blunt nails raked down her back. She arched in spite of herself, and she tried to push her face closer to Missy’s, tried to get more of the kiss. She gave a broken little sob as Missy’s thumb dug into the bite on her face again, and then Missy was grabbing her ass, squeezing it.

“Much more meat on your bones this time,” said Missy, and her finger slid down lower, between the Doctor’s thighs. “Softer, too.” She angled her arm down, and then she was shoving two fingers into the Doctor unceremoniously. 

The Doctor made an indignant noise, and she ground back. She yanked at the scarf tying her wrists together, and she tried to grind her hips back into Missy’s fingers.

“You’re spending entirely too much time around those humans,” Missy repeated. “You used to be above these sorts of things.” Her fingers twisted inside of the Doctor, pressing down on something that made the Doctor’s whole body seize up. 

The Doctor gasped, clenched around the fingers inside of her, and she heard Missy make… some kind of sound. She was a bit too far gone to try to interpret it at this point. 

“You’re so wet,” Missy said, and her thumb found the Doctor’s clit, circling over it. Another hand was in the Doctor’ hair, forcing her head back, dragging her face back against the wood of the TARDIS. “You’re so wet and so desperate. Like one of those animals you spend all your time around.” She pressed down harder on the Doctor’s clit, using her whole shoulder to fuck the Doctor, and the Doctor tried to plant her feet. 

The Doctor clenched around the fingers inside of her, and she bit her lip to keep from making too much noise, as a few tears leaked down her face, smearing on the TARDIS, leaving her sticky and flushed. All of her was sticky and flushed, sweaty. She _existed_ in this body, this endlessly starving, desperate body that always seemed to want more. 

She wanted more - the two fingers weren’t enough. 

“More,” the Doctor mumbled, and she kept her voice low enough that Missy had to lean in closer, her breath hot on the Doctor’s face. 

‘What was that?” Missy twisted her fingers, and she was rubbing something inside of the Doctor that was making her _gush_. God, this was embarrassing. 

“More,” the Doctor repeated, a little louder. Not so loud as to attract any attention from the passing crowd. Missy would kill anyone who interrupted - she’d probably find a way to do so while knuckle deep in the Doctor’s cunt. Probably time it with the Doctor’s orgasm, to maximize the humiliation and rage. 

“What’s got _you_ snickering?” Missy slapped the Doctor on the inner thigh, and the Doctor bit her lip to keep from howling. How had she managed to hit so hard?

“Nothing,” the Doctor said, and she hissed. Her orgasm was beginning to build deep in her gut, mixed in with the throbbing pain of the bite on her face, the bites on her neck, the strain on her shoulders. She arched into it, and she tried to push herself back onto Missy’s fingers. “More. Please.”

“More?” Missy removed her fingers completely, until the very tips were resting on the Doctor’s labia. “You _animal_.” She shoved three fingers in at the same time, and she curled them, spreading them out. 

The Doctor sobbed, and she wished she could scream, wished she could moan, wished she was being fucked by someone else, someplace else. What if… what if this was Yaz instead, or Martha, or Sarah Jane, or Amy, or Mel, or Rose, or Peri, or Ace, or - 

“You’re not thinking of _them_ when I’m fucking you,” Missy spat, and the coldness of her mind bashed against the boundaries of the Doctor’s own. The Doctor staggered, and the fingers inside of her twisted cruelly. 

“Stay out of my mind,” the Doctor panted. 

"You'll share your body with me, but not your mind? You _are_ an animal." Missy's teeth, biting into the back of the Doctor's neck, and Missy's thumb on her clitoris, and then the Doctor was going rigid. 

"Missy," she murmured, and she didn't know what it was that she was feeling, and then Missy's lips pressed against the back of her neck in a delicate, tender kiss. There was another brush against her mind, but it wasn't a slam this time, more like a gentle knock.

Her orgasm wracked over her, pleasure yanked out of her like a recalcitrant tooth, and she sobbed as the sweet pleasure washed over her. Her cunt pulsed around Missy's fingers, and she could _feel_ the smugness radiating off of Missy, as those same fingers were withdrawn. "I should make a pet out of you," Missy told the Doctor. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Didn't you once tell Clara that she was like a puppy to me and you?" The Doctor was having some trouble finding her voice, but she couldn't help but grin at the way Missy stiffened against her. "Seemed a bit of a high estimation of the two of us, if you ask me." 

"Can you ever get those silly little humans out of your mind?" Missy grabbed the Doctor's hair yet again, forcing her head back. Then Missy's fingers were being crammed into the Doctor's mouth, and the Doctor's chin was sticky with her own arousal. She sucked it off, wetly, desperately, because that seemed to be the thing to do. The pain in her scalp, in her face, in her arms, all seemed to be coalescing into her cunt, and she was still slick and desperate for _more_. She was drooling down her chin and sweating down between her breasts, her thighs sticky with arousal. 

Maybe Missy was right, and she was an animal. 

"No," the Doctor said simply, and she gasped as Missy grabbed her by the back of the neck and spun her around, forcing her bound hands to dig into her lower back. Her aching shoulders protested, and she hated the way her chest was visibly heaving.

"I suppose I'll just have to take your mind off of them," Missy said, and her tone had a brightness to it that was making the Doctor nervous. She flinched - and hated herself for flinching - when Missy's hands went up towards her throat. She relaxed, just enough to breathe, when Missy grabbed the neck of her shirt... and ripped. 

"I like that shirt," the Doctor said, her tone regretful as Missy tore it down to the hem.

"You look like an idiot in it," said Missy, and she shoved the sports bra over the Doctor's breasts, and leaned back on her heels, looking the Doctor up and down.

_At least she didn't rip the bra, that thing was a pain to find_ , thought the Doctor. She wasn't going to think about how she was leaning against her TARDIS in an alley, her hands bound behind her back, being fucked by the person who had been her best friend, her enemy, who burned with madness like a star going supernova. 

"These I like," Missy said, and she took a handful of the Doctor's breast, squeezed it. Her thumb dug into the Doctor's breast, and the Doctor hissed. 

Missy's hand drew back, and she slapped the Doctor on the side of her right breast, hard enough to make it jiggle. It _stung_ , and a bit of it caught the nipple. The Doctor's mouth opened wide, and she managed to clamp the scream down at the last moment. It came out as a strangled little whine, and Missy looked disappointed. 

"Aren't you going to say thank you?" Missy moved in close, and she grabbed the Doctor's face, her thumb digging into the hinge of the Doctor's jaw.

The Doctor let her mouth fall open, and she almost gagged when Missy's still damp fingers were shoved in, hard enough that the knuckles banged against her teeth. 

"I say something nice to you, and this is the thanks I get," Missy said, and she slapped the Doctor's breast again, harder this time. 

The Doctor whined around the fingers in her mouth, but she didn't make any noise that anyone else would hear. Her breasts were on fire, her head hurt, and she wanted to be hit again, how could she want to be hit again when it hurt so much? This body had turned her into a masochist, it seemed.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me, Doctor?” Missy simpered, and she withdrew her fingers almost all the way, resting the tips on the Doctor’s tongue. “Be a good girl, and it’ll be a jolly good time.” 

There was a cheerful shout from the mouth of the alley. Missy’s head whipped towards it, and the Doctor leaned forward, taking more of Missy’s fingers into her mouth. She worked her tongue between Missy’s fingers, and she kept her eyes on Missy’s face.

“You’re trying to distract me from killing that idiot who nearly ruined our fun,” Missy said. She was frowning, and the line between her eyebrows was getting deeper. “I ought to go teach them a lesson.”

The Doctor took Missy’s fingers deeper into her mouth, and she grasped for memories of other intimate moments between them, way back when. She pushed those memories at Missy, and Missy might have caught some snatch of it, because she was focusing her full attention on the Doctor now. 

"Do you think your distractions will work?" Missy’s tone was one of gentle inquiry. 

More sucking, and Missy's fingers pressed down harder on her tongue. The Doctor did her best not to gag. 

Missy made a disgusted noise, and she slapped the Doctor's breasts again, a series of sharp, cracking hits. "Your little mind games aren't going to work on me, Doctor," she said. 

The Doctor pushed her own mind at Missy, like she was tossing out a rope. Missy, greedy as ever for an in to the Doctor, took it, and she moaned as the Doctor's tongue lapped at the web between her fingers. The sensation of Missy in the shallow pools of her mind had an alien familiarity, and she made a big show of moaning, throwing old memories and frenetic imaginings down their connection. 

"You never were any good at seduction," Missy said, dragging her fingers out of the Doctor's mouth. "You try too hard." Missy shoved her own mind at the Doctor's... and smashed her metaphorical face into another barrier.

Missy made a frustrated noise, and she slapped the Doctor again, in the face this time. It took a few seconds for the pain of it to register, and then it seemed to flood over her. There was a hand print over the bite mark on her face now, of course there was. She was going to be downright _purple_ by the time this was all done. 

The Doctor blinked, and she noted clinically that her tongue was going dry. She must have had her mouth open. Huh. There were more tears dripping down her face, and the pain was almost too much. The last person to slap her like that - had it been Donna? She had a feeling it was Donna. Donna had slapped her quite a few -

"Stop thinking about them," Missy snarled, and she pressed herself up against the Doctor. She kissed the Doctor, and her mind battered at the gates of the Doctor's mind. Her tongue was in the Doctor's mouth, and her teeth were digging into the Doctor's lower lip. She broke the kiss, and then she was holding the Doctor's breasts in her hands, thumbing the nipples. "These suit you," she told the Doctor, and the Doctor was discombobulated from the subject change, from the way her ear was still sore and ringing. 

"I grew 'em myself," the Doctor said, because she couldn't think of anything else _to_ say. She was off balance, literally and figuratively - keeping Missy out of her mind, as Missy manipulated her body, keeping her own reactions in check to keep any passerby safe... the whole thing was a mess, and the Doctor's stomach was twisting like a nest of snakes. 

Missy snorted. "That was almost an original joke," Missy said. She frowned, letting go of the Doctor, and then she was... leaning down, to grab the Doctor's coat? "I suppose this horrible thing is good for something after all." She spread it out in front of the Doctor's booted feet. 

"D'you have to be so _petty_?" The Doctor rolled her shoulders, trying to get more comfortable. Her hands were beginning to tingle, and she carefully wiggled her fingers. "I get that you want to wreak havoc and whatnot, but do you have to insult my clothes?"

Missy's hands were on the Doctor's hips, and then she was getting down on her knees stiffly, and her hands were going to the Doctor's bare thighs. "Evil is as evil does," Missy said primly. "I've got an image to maintain."

The Doctor looked down at Missy through the valley of her breasts, and she was shaking, sweat dripping down her body, smearing across the side of the TARDIS. She was still aroused, and she hated it, hated the stickiness against her thighs, the way her knees trembled. She was desperate for _more_ , and she didn't think she'd ever been desperate like this before. 

"It's nice to know that I've had an impact," Missy said, and she smiled sweetly. Then she drew her hand back, and she slapped the Doctor on the inner thigh, hard enough to jiggle. Another wave of pain that seemed to come behind the sound, and it took all of the Doctor's considerable self control to keep from screaming. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and it seemed like another little gush of arousal slid out of her. It was almost ticklish on the smarting skin, pink where it had been slapped. 

Missy leaned forward, and she gripped the Doctor's thigh cruelly, hard enough to make the Doctor hiss through her teeth. Her teeth sank into the thigh she hadn’t slapped, and her tongue flickered against the delicate skin as she sucked and sucked. 

The Doctor whined, keeping her tone low. There was another noisy group going by, laughing raucously, and she made herself shake, made herself react without making any noise. She let the little tendril of Missy’s mind into her own, dipping its toes back into the shallows. 

“Oh, you like that,” Missy said, when she pulled back. She bit the other thigh, and she ran the tip of her index finger along the Doctor’s slit, finding the Doctor’s clit with her thumb. “You like that a great deal, don’t you?” 

“Mmm,” the Doctor mumbled, and her face was turning red. She wished she had her hands free, wish she could bury them In Missy’s hair. The Doctor wanted to muss her up a bit, make her look a little less goddamn reserved. There was something especially frustrating about the fact that she was practically naked, her trousers around her ankles and her shirt ripped open, while Missy was still in her full Mary Poppins getup. 

“You like that a _great_ deal,” Missy said, and now she sounded distracted. Her fingers slid inside of the Doctor, and then her mouth was descending down towards the Doctor’s cunt. The Doctor flinched preemptively, and Missy’s huff of amusement was hot against her vulva, ruffling her pubic hair. 

Missy’s tongue was surprisingly delicate, as it traced along her labia. Missy’s fingers were equally delicate as they ran up and down the Doctor’s bare thighs, raising goosebumps. The Doctor was beginning to shiver, and she sighed, leaning more heavily on the TARDIS. She spread her legs wider, as Missy’s shoulders forced her thighs further open, and her cult squeezed like a fist when Missy’s nose brushed over her clit. 

The Doctor made an alarmed noise when Missy grabbed her leg, and then she had only one foot on the ground. She took some perverse glee in the mess that her heel was probably leaving on Missy’s nice coat. She took a lot less enjoyment out of just how off balance she was in this position. She could, in theory, undo the scarf that was tying her wrists together, but then she wouldn’t have been able to pay attention to what Missy was doing, and she kept being distracted by little bits of pleasure snaking their way into her head, down her back. Missy was lapping at her clit now, gentle little flicks of her tongue that made the Doctor’s hips rock forward, just enough to make her wobble. Her back was starting to hurt now, to go with her shoulders, her face, her thighs, her breasts…

All of her was tender, overstimulated. She needed to get away - needed to call this off, get her feet on the ground, collect her clothes and her dignity. She had to get back in her TARDIS, maybe masturbate a few dozen times until she got all of whatever this was out of her system and -

“No,” Missy said sharply, and two fingers were jabbed into the Doctor. “You’re here. With me. You’re not going to think of anything else, anyone else.” Missy’s lips fastened around the Doctor’s clit, and she sucked hard enough that the Doctor’s resolve broke, and she squealed.

There was the sound of someone pausing at the mouth of the alley, but Missy seemed to be fully taken in with fucking the Doctor. Her tongue was moving rapidly against the Doctor's clit, and she was still sucking so hard that her mouth must have been sore. Her fingers were unrelenting, pressing against what must have been the Doctor’s g-spot, because the tension in the roots of her guts was getting tighter, sweet pleasure coiling at the base of her spine. 

Missy twisted her fingers again, and they were _harsh_ , and that shouldn’t have felt so good, none of this should have felt so good, but the Doctor’s hips were rolling up awkwardly to meet Missy’s face, and Missy was just _sucking_ relentlessly. The Doctor forced her eyes open (when had they been closed?) and she looked down into Missy’s face. 

Missy was staring into her eyes, and she managed to look smug. How did she look smug, when she had her mouth on the Doctor’s cunt?

Missy withdrew her fingers, let go of the Doctor’s clit. She leaned back on her heels, and she spread the Doctor open with her thumbs, one eyebrow up. She looked for all the world like she was critiquing a painting, and the mental image of that was enough to make the Doctor smile in spite of herself.

“Am I amusing you?” Missy’s voice was as dry as her chin was damp. 

“Sex is supposed to be fun,” the Doctor said, and that sounded like a weak excuse in her own ears. She sighed, and she squirmed. “You’re good at this,” she told Missy, because stroking the other woman’s ego had worked in the past. 

Missy’s face split into a grin that would have sent a lesser person running screaming. It made the Doctor’s clit throb at her that much harder. “You sweet thing,” she said, and the Doctor wasn’t sure if Missy was talking to her, or to her cunt.

Then Missy bit her.

Missy bit her vulva, and she bit it _hard_ , hard enough that the Doctor couldn’t even scream, couldn’t do anything but stand there and endure it as the pain washed over her in waves. She whimpered, and then Missy was licking along her clit again, fingering her open. She couldn’t differentiate between the pain and the pleasure, and she was sobbing, dry, broken sobs. Missy’s tongue kept passing over her clit, something pulling off to lick around her fingers. She seemed to know all the exact ways to prolong it, and to make it worse. At one point, her fingers dug into the bruised bite on the Doctor’s thigh. At another, she was pressing delicate kissing around the Doctor’s clit, just enough pressure to set all the nerves alight.

It all became one unending mess of sensation, pain and pleasure, teasing and desperation. The Doctor was barely holding on to herself, barely holding on to her own mind, her own feelings. It was like trying to keep from drowning while someone was dumping great, sloshing buckets of water over her head. 

Missy was chuckling as the Doctor came around her fingers, and the Doctor was still sobbing as the pleasure went through her, spilling like a glass that someone kept pouring into. And Missy kept going, kept licking and sucking, forcing another orgasm out of the Doctor, past the point of pain, until the Doctor had come two more times. She set the Doctor’s foot down on the ground (on the Doctor’s own coat, of course, because Missy had to be petty like that), and she stood up. 

The Doctor blinked at Missy, bleary and throbbing, sore and tired. Her cunt _ached_ , swollen and overstimulated. She wanted to sleep for a million years, wanted to hide in a hole, wanted to grab Missy and kiss her. 

“It was nice catching up,” Missy said, her voice chipper and sweet. “I’ll see you around some time, shall I?” She pressed a delicate, chaste kiss to the Doctor’s cheek, smearing some of the Doctor’s wetness against the Doctor’s cheek, and then she was just… walking off, deeper into the alley.

The Doctor knew she should have called after her, should have _chased_ after her. She pulled her wrists free of the scarf, and then she stood there, holding it in her hands with her raw wrists. She sighed, long and deep, and she bent down, picking up her coat. She picked her trousers up enough to keep them from tripping her up, and then she opened the door to her TARDIS.

She shot one last look over her shoulder, before she closed the door, but she didn’t see Missy.

But Missy would show up again. She always did. 

The Doctor wasn’t sure if she was comforted or worried by that, and she was too tired and in too much pain to examine it any closer than that.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from _Contact_ from the musical RENT - I couldn't get it out of my head as I wrote this.


End file.
